<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The real history by Clara_Jimmy</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26303230">The real history</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Jimmy/pseuds/Clara_Jimmy'>Clara_Jimmy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works &amp; Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beleriand, Censorship, First Age, Gen, Gondolin, Historical Accuracy, does not exist, history is made by Turgon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:41:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26303230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Jimmy/pseuds/Clara_Jimmy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Turgon indulges in some censorship. He orders Pengolodh to write the “real” history.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The real history</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I have read the document you wrote, Quengoldo,” the king spoke, tapping a folder lying in front of him on the desk, “and undoubtedly you will agree with me when I say that several drastic changes have to be made before it can be officially published.”</p><p>
“Yes, of course, your Majesty,” the loremaster replied and bowed slightly once again.</p><p>
“It is truly unsuitable to have such information be spread overt the city and perhaps even further,” the king spoke, “such unsightly prospect. Wouldn’t you say so?”</p><p>
“I would, your Majesty,” Pengolodh answered, “the story is indeed rather chaotic and not to mention horrifying.”</p><p>
“Horrifying indeed!” king Turgon exclaimed and his eyes flashed with annoyance, “what a disgrace!” He suddenly stood up, sighing with anger, and walked off brusquely. He seemed like he might start pacing around the room.</p><p>
“That Írissë ran away and married that-,” the king raised his voice, “that Dark Elf, and a servant of Moringotto at that! That is such a disgusting tale, an idea profoundly demeaning to my sister, to myself, to our family, to the whole House of Finwë! Staining the name of our city or even the entirety of our kin! We cannot let that happen. It is a disgrace to the memory of my beloved Írissë.” His anger was very disquieting and Pengolodh wondered if he should speak. There was silence for a while.</p><p>
“I will not have her remembered as some Avar´s wife,” the king spoke and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He was expecting a reaction.</p><p>
“But my king,” Pengolodh said, very cautiously and trying to appear even more humble then before, “there is an evidence that the marriage took place... the boy Maeglin-“</p><p>
“I know,” the king grunted and sighed angrily again and his bright eyes found Pengolodh and narrowed dangerously, “do you think me stupid, Master Quengoldo?”</p><p>
“Never, your Majesty!” he exclaimed, “of course not, nothing like that! I apologize for my rudeness.” King Turgon regarded him silently and sighed and finally, to the loremaster´s great relief, looked away, gazing out of the tall windows into the night sky.</p><p>
“We cannot deny their existence,” the king said eventually, “not with the boy still here, not after the feast. But we can take charge. As I said, the document needs to be changed.”</p><p>
In his years as an apprentice loremaster or one in his own right Pengolodh has found that truth was not always one. He has encountered lords and ladies who wanted the accounts changed and he has learned to listen to them. His king was no different. Pengolodh has paid a high price for being the royal loremaster. The king walked back to his great desk and lifted the folder.</p><p>
“Read it now,” he said, “I have taken the liberty of making a few alterations.”</p><p>
Pengolodh quickly crossed the room and took the papers from him and got back to his lone chair. He opened the folder and stared to read. He saw that the king had made many alterations, scratching sentences, underlining problematic words, writing his own thoughts, simply pointing out what needed to be changed, removed, or added. Throughout reading all of it Pengolodh tried to keep his face serene and unmoved, fighting his natural urge to frown at every other paragraph. He saw that Eöl was now a Sinda sworn to Elu Thingol, princess Íreth didn’t really agree to their marriage… he charmed her with spells… the boy Maeglin´s feelings for his cousin Idril were unreturned, the king tried to persuade his sister from leaving, the Fëanorians let Eöl follow them to Gondolin… Eöl wanted to kill Maeglin and so Íreth leaped heroically into the trajectory of the javelin… Pengolodh´s eyebrow wanted to raise itself permanently.</p><p>
He read it all and the king waited, sitting in his chair, watching him from behind laced fingers. At last, he looked up, once again meeting the king´s unrelenting bright eyes.</p><p>
“Have you finished?” king Turgon asked, “what do you think?”</p><p>
“Yes, my king,” he replied, bowing slightly, “I do think that you make many valuable observations. But… do you want me to rewrite it all? With all those changes?”</p><p>
“Work on it,” the king said, “and find a way to use all the changes. I expect to have the completed document on my desk soon, Master Quengoldo.”</p><p>
“Yes, my king,” Pengolodh said, bowing a little.</p><p>
“And not a word of what has trespassed here leaves this room, is that understood?” the king asked, fixing him with another stern gaze.</p><p>
“I understand, my king,” he replied, “I will tell no one.”</p><p>
“Good. You are dismissed then,” the said and waved his hand to the direction of the door on the other side of the hall. Pengolodh stood up, bowed deeply and was glad that he could walk away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>They both speak in Quenya, but Pengolodh thinks in Sindarin (I imagine it is his first language here. I read that Noldor and Sindar lived in Gondolin and that Pengolodh had mixed ancestry.).</p><p>The names:<br/>Turukáno = Turgon<br/>Írissë = Íreth (Aredhel is another name altogether, given to her by Eöl and his people, so I don´t think they would use it)<br/>Quengoldo = Pengolodh (honestly the name sounds more like a title, just how the chief loremaster would be called)<br/>Moringotto = Morgoth</p><p>I really like Pengolodh now :D) such an interesting character!<br/>I hope you liked this little story!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>